Imprisoned

Lungs

We stumbled along the dirt path, our feet tired from hours of walking and our lungs hurting from breathing in heavy tendrils of smoke. It had invaded our lungs, making it hard to take in much air. But none of that stopped us. We were so close to freedom, so close to really making it.

Louis tangled his fingers with mine, making me realize how close we really were. And when I turned to look at him, he wasn't looking at me. It was almost as if it were a gut instinct of his to hold my hand, and I liked that. When he realized, though, how hard I was staring at him, Louis turned his head. His blue-green eyes met mine in a n intoxicating gaze. I couldn't tear my eyes from his if I wanted to. There was a magnetic pull, drawing us closer together.

Louis' rough hand cupped my cheek, making the moment even more intimate. He moved closer toward me too. I just waited. Then his lips were on mine, soft and sweet. It was like he was trying to save me, keep me from breaking. Like all of the moments and dangerous were happening right then. He was saving me, one touch at a time.

We broke apart, but kept our gazes locked. His eyes on mine and mine on his. Blue green on blue grat. He was mine and I was his.

Then Louis spoke.

"There's just something about you. Every little thing you do just makes me happy, it makes me feel things I've never felt for a girl before. You're driving me wild, but I don't want you to stop."

And with a crooked grin he kissed me on the cheek and turned away. But I couldn't let the conversation end there.

"Louis. You do the same to me, and I just don't know how to react. It makes me want to leave to never come back. It scares me. I've never felt this way towards anyone, and I never thought I would."

He didn't turn around. He didn't look at me. He didn't say anything. But I knew he was smiling. So I just intertwined our fingers and let him try to act nonchalant.

We waited on the edge of that road for what seemed like hours. The sun rose high in the sky as we stood in the dust. It caked our clothes and faces, turning everything a dull gray. It matched our moods. We were gray. We were alone. We only held on to hope. We clung to every fiber of it, like the dust to our clothing. And sure enough, we had a saving grace.

A car crawled along the dirt path, winding and twisting without a care in the world. It was as if they had nowhere to go and nothing to worry about. As it meandered toward me and Louis, a dust cloud trailing behind it, Louis let out a shout.

"Hey! Over here!"

He waved his arms frantically, in hopes that we would be noticed. And soon.

The car stopped its winding and twisting and made a beeline towards us. I'm sure we were a sight to see with our singes hair and dusty clothing. The passengers, however, seemed not to notice. They just pulled up and looked at us like you might look at an old friend- with love and compassion. The driver stepped out, a woman of slight build with a halo of fiery hair and eyes darker than night. She was a walking contradiction, with her small body and heavy footsteps. And her voice, how it came out so much bigger than I had thought possible. It filled the air around us and lingered, powerful and electric. Her small arms, too, were very strong. She lifted our packs and tied them down to the roof of the car.

"Whereabouts y'all headed?"

Her drawl made Louis chuckle a bit.

"We're just looking for somewhere to stay."

I repllied to her whilst shoving an elbow in Louis' gut. As the woman turned away, I hissed in his ear,

"She's trying to help us for God's sake. The least you can do it be a bit polite."

Louis cast his eyes downward and didn't say another thing.

We piled into the car, its leather interior plush and comfortable. And the air conditioning. It pricked my skin like icy needles, a necessary pain. It dulled the throbbing in my muscles and made me forget how sore I really was. By the looks of Louis' relaxed posture, his slumped shoulders and arms slung around my waist, it was safe to assume he felt the same way.

The ride was not particularly pleasant, however, in the sense that the radio was blasting at full volume, folk songs and guitar solos invading my ears. The woman sang along to all of them, her loud voice only adding to the cacophony of noise. But the man next to her stayed silent.

He was tall, as far as I could gather. He was well built too, with strong arms and legs as thick around as a tree trunk. Though he didn't say anything, I knew he was thinkking of a lot of things. By the way he gazed at Louis and me in the back seat, by the way that his eyes flitted around, never lingering too long on any one thing. He had a tinkerer's twitch too. His hands were always moving, seeking for something to do. But there was something about the man that put me on edge and kept me from relaxing. Maybe it was the way his eyes would turn dark unexpectedly, or the way he seemed detached from everything. Maybe it was the way that the woman driving kept a careful eye on him. It could have also been the way it seemed as if he wre hiding something under his seat.

And only when Louis and I were in the car for a while did we realize that this woman hadn't told us where we were going.